


Six out of Seven

by Lizard_senpai



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: F/M, Mental Health Issues, Mental Instability, My First AO3 Post
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-11
Updated: 2018-11-11
Packaged: 2019-08-22 06:25:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,247
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16592549
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lizard_senpai/pseuds/Lizard_senpai
Summary: Wreather is an oddity. She knows what she is. Broken, mixed up, and tangled in her own mind. And, most of all, she knows she does not belong in Gotham. If only the people here could see it that way.





	Six out of Seven

The new one Mama Fish had brought smelled like envy and corrupted pride. It was a strong smell, like a rotting corpse combined with a bag of month old trash, but it masked more than she thought humans were capable of. He stood like his foot was hurt, and her first urge was to ask why and if she could make it better, but the look of his face told her not to. She instead waited for Mama Fish to notice she was there. When she did, the dark-skinned woman smiled with a sickly sweetness, pride clinging around her every action like a bad perfume. The only reason Wreather could stand the smell was the strength of the wrath that also clung to Fish Mooney. Wrath was the only sin that didn’t smell _bad_.

Maybe it was because that was what all of hell smelled like. Maybe it was because that was Astor’s sin.

“Hello, baby. What are you doing up?” Mama Fish asked, voice soft and crooning as she beckoned her closer. Wreather obeyed, sitting at the booth with Fish and leaning into the woman’s scent of wrath.

“Nightmare.” It was a simple, one-worded response. Wreather rarely spoke more than one word to anyone save Mama Fish and Butch. Even then, it was a rare thing for her to answer in a full sentence if there were other people besides them around. And the new one was around. Mama Fish seemed to notice her discomfort and smiled, running a soothing hand through Wreather’s chin-length bob.

“It’s okay, baby. This is Oswald. He’s new ‘round here. Think you can say hi to him for me?”

Wreather looked at him, trying her best not to breath in the scent of his sin. After a moment, she forced up a smile and lifted her hand in a wave. Fish smiled at her and leaned in to whisper, “Why don’t you go back up to your room, baby? I’ll be up there in a few.”

Wreather bit her lip and nodded, still trying not to breathe in the putrid smells of the humans around her. She slinked out of the booth and went to the stairs, looking back behind her and straining her ears to pick up if the new one, Oswald, would have anything to say about her. Almost everyone did. She was odd and everyone loved to talk about odd things.

“If you don’t mind my asking, Ms. Mooney, who was that young lady?” The scent of the man’s corrupted pride grew stronger, making her vaguely nauseous. In the back of her mind, she congratulated herself. If this had been a couple months ago, she wouldn’t even have been able to handle the scent of the club, let alone sit this close to it. Then again, it was only Mama Fish and Butch that made the place smell even remotely tolerable, their wrath so strong it easily dwarfed all of the other sins that lingered.

Speaking of wrath, she could smell Butch’s coming closer towards her and she pulled her ears away from whatever Fish was going to reply so she could focus on the burly man.

“Hey there, sweetheart. Why are you down here so early? The club opens in thirty minutes, so you might want to head back upstairs.”

“Another nightmare,” she said again and she couldn’t help but appreciate Butch’s look of sympathy. He reached out his hand which she took gratefully. She liked Butch. He was the only human she had ever met that smelled almost like a demon. Sure, there was the scent of other sins that wrapped around him but the strongest was wrath. It was even stronger than Mama Fish’s. Butch almost smelled like home.

Butch almost smelled like Astor.

“Want me to tuck you in, sweets?” he asked, tone gentle and his hand holding her own in reassurance. Wreather smiled and nodded, letting him pick her up like she was a sleepy toddler instead of a girl that looked close to her teens and carry her back upstairs. Once he reached her room, Butch set her down and opened the star-painted door. She was quick to slip inside and lie back in her soft bed, her way illuminated by the warm light that snuck in past Butch’s large frame.

Butch followed in once she was in her bed and began to check the window, closet, and even the drawers of her dresser to make sure they were all closed as they had been when she had went to sleep earlier. Of course, like always, they were. His inspection over, he came and sat on her bed with a slight smile on his face.

“Nothing, sweets. Want to talk about your nightmare?” he asked. Just like always.

“No thanks,” Wreather responded. Just like always.

He nodded and made his way back to the door. Before he left completely, he said, “I’m sure Fish will be up in a bit, sweetheart. I’ll be downstairs if you need me.” Then, he left, closing the door behind him. And Wreather began counting down the possibilities of why she was here.

One. Astor would come back for her.

He had promised he would come back and he never broke his promises before. Maybe he was still looking for her back homw. Maybe it just hadn’t occurred to him she would be with humans when he ability to sense sins was so much stronger than the average capabilities. Maybe she was just hiding too well.

Two. Sid would come back for her.

He cared about her as much, if not more than, Astor. There was no way he would just leave her there alone. Sid was a coward, but he cherished his friends. And she was his friend, wasn’t she? Therefore, he would come and find her if Astor couldn’t.

Three. They would both come back for her.

That might be the reason they were taking so long. Those two certainly raised the bar when in came to sibling rivalry. It was not outside of the realm of possibility for them to be trying to work together but end up getting in each other’s way since the preferred opposing methods.

Four. Astor was dead.

That would explain a lot, actually. If he was dead, he wouldn’t come and look for her because he wouldn’t remember. He’d be a shade, just like Sid had been until they helped him. But if he did die, then Sid would help him. If Sid wasn’t able to help then it would mean…

Five. Sid was dead.

Sid was definitely the weaker one. He was scared of everything. Astor was the strength of their group, and if he died than Sid might be close to follow. Then that would naturally mean…

Six. They both were dead.

If they were dead, than she was stuck here. She wasn’t strong enough to get back home. If they weren’t alive, there might no even be a reason to go home at all. Or maybe home didn’t exist anymore. Maybe it never existed at all.

Seven. She was crazy.

That’s what the humans liked to think. Not that Mama Fish or Butch judged her for that, but they clearly thought there was something wrong with her beyond the reasons they kept her around.  But she wasn’t crazy, she wasn’t. Everything was too real for it to be a hallucination. The powers to real. Her memories too real. Everything…

And eight is where the nightmares begin.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Hey! This is my first fic in Gotham and on AO3. I was originally just writing this as a way to practice my character Wreather (who belongs to an original work of mine) but Gotham kept on seeping into it so I decided I might as well write this. Let me know what y'all think! :)  
> ~Lizard-senpai


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